7 days ago
Drive to go digital has real implications in rural and island areas
This pithy catch-all can relate to almost anything from growing a business to raising a child or managing your mental health. It is also a favourite buzzword in political circles.
Orkney lost access to the internet last week, a result of an underwater fibre cable being cut. It came just days after I had sat in a meeting with our MSP as our community broadband engineer warned of a major resilience issue with subsea fibre cables.
The concept of resilience has been haunting my dreams lately as I consider a range of island issues in my role at Urras Thiriodh. Not least among them are that same island connectivity and future vet provision. These are not small issues. They are huge and critical. And at this moment in time, they are about as resilient as a chocolate poker.
The main problem with this irritating phrase is that it is true. Resilience, defined as 'the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties', does need to be built. In each instance, the more resilience you have, the stronger the individual, the business, or the community. At the root of all of that is the ability to adapt to changing circumstances in a net positive way.
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The infuriating part is that in most cases, it puts the onus on the end user – whether the business, individual or community – to build it. And they rarely have the tools to adapt in the timeframe required.
Individual resilience comes from experience, support and the people around you. Few people have control over those things. From my recent TikTok travels, the sheer number of influencers and apps offering solutions to anxiety and stress – and the armchair psychologists offering a variety of diagnoses which may or may not be helpful – suggests that it is getting ever harder for people to adapt in the modern world.
Similarly, business resilience comes from experience, mentoring, advice and the foundations the enterprise is built on. When the rubber hits the road, the key question is whether you can change direction, learn from failure and adapt your business model or product to meet the new reality.
The bigger the thing that needs resilience, the harder it can be to adapt quickly enough to find it in time. And for island communities, the challenge is enormous because our resilience relies less on us, and more on a range of external factors we cannot hope to control.
However hard it may be – and it is not easy by any means – individuals and businesses can usually draw on a pool of resources when things go south. Islands like ours are, as a rule, just one step from critical market failure over which we have very little control.
Fibre broadband is currently rolling out in Tiree as part of the R100 programme. R100 stands for 'Reaching 100%'. Progress in Tiree seems to have ground to a halt just before my house, which is unfortunate for a lot of reasons, not least that I inherited my father's ability to write a strongly worded letter.
But the fibre rollout is not really the issue. I'll get it eventually, and the letter-writing is very therapeutic. The real issue is that as soon as the copper lines are switched off, every form of communication in Tiree – aside from short-wave radio – will rely on one single fibre cable.
Our cable was cut a few years ago after a trawler caught it. We're told that the chance of it being cut again is minuscule, but [[Orkney]]'s experience over the past week mirrors Shetland's experience last year, when the entire archipelago went dark. Our concerns aren't unfounded.
The drive to make everything digital in the name of progress has very real implications in rural and island areas. Our landline phones currently work in a power cut. In the future, they will not. They currently work if the internet is down. In the future, they will not. Home care alarms – vital for the elderly and infirm, especially in the Highlands and Islands – will now require a working internet connection rather than an analogue copper line.
I'm watching a new power cable being laid in the Gunna Sound, which separates Coll and Tiree. Word on the street is that the old one is being left there just in case. If that is indeed the case, it's a great step forward. That said, our power network is probably the most resilient service in Tiree, because we have our own power station. Sure, it runs on diesel and requires boats to keep it fed, but it can be switched on with little fuss, bar a momentary flickering of the lights.
If the fibre cable goes down, we lose everything digital. The 4G masts? Out. Community broadband? Gone – same cable. Everyone on the new fibre network? Offline. The school? Disconnected. Home care alarms? Dead.
With mobiles needing a working mast, and phones requiring an internet connection, even 999 calls may be impossible.
Radio is moving to digital. Most TVs will become smart [[TV]]s. Streaming services will become the standard – after all, they appear more resilient than a satellite dish in 100mph winds ...
There are options to provide resilience. In this case, it's not about the community 'building it'. It's about being given the tools to be resilient.
The Government needs to look very, very carefully at the implications of this digital transformation drive. On one hand, it's hugely positive and will drive growth in many areas, not least business. But in one fell swoop, it risks making huge swathes of the country far less resilient. It will put lives in danger. It will endanger businesses.
Our islands need a backup. In this case, low-orbit satellites are probably the most resilient solution. Exchanges need to be able to switch to them seamlessly. You cannot leave some of our hardest-to-reach places without a digital service. One day, that's what will happen. The risk is growing – and the world is not getting safer.
The next resilience issue we're facing as a community is the retiral of our vet. The practice has been on the market for months, but selling it is proving challenging. From the end of August, we will have no vet – and there is no statutory requirement for one.
The crofting sector puts more than a million pounds worth of stock through the mart each year. Our crofters are custodians of our landscape, which in turn draws tourists. Our efforts to stem depopulation rely on attracting young families – many of whom have pets. My current estimates suggest a minimum of £200,000 will be lost to our economy each year without vet provision. The ripples will stretch much further.
It's not the fault of the vet. It's a system and market failure. In a world where vets are like hens' teeth, and in a location where making a practice financially viable requires a subsidy (which is available, because the Government recognises the challenge rural practices face), it will take the right type of person to make it work. And that type of person is not easily found – despite the incredible lifestyle our location offers.
I don't doubt that there is a solution, but it will require the community to find it. It will require volunteers and a huge local effort, including conversations around the regulatory framework. A single point of failure that relies on market forces is a massive resilience issue.
We know how to adapt. We've been doing it for generations. What we need now isn't another motivational phrase. We need practical support. Resilience demands inner strength – Tiree has that in spades – but it also needs backup.
Expecting resilience without offering support isn't strength. It's how communities disappear.
